Almost
by CaptAcorn
Summary: Because it was just a little bit of fun. Because he would never want to be with someone like you for long. Because you had to protect him. Because you had to protect yourself. Because you couldn't stand not telling him the truth. Because you couldn't make yourself admit the truth. Because he moved on without you.
1. Non-Sequitur

**A/N** : Written for the wonderful and talented rsb for the Deck Nine Summer Exchange. She asked for a story that references Harry and Tom being a couple before Tom and B'Elanna get together. It is canon consistent as well, although that wasn't a requirement. Many thanks, as always, to the lovely Sareki02 for her indispensable beta reading skills, and to Photogirl1890 for her sharp-eyed copy editing. They are awesome (and have plenty of great stories of their own, if you haven't read them yet). Rated T for some language and also implied sexual situations.

* * *

Harry Kim rose from a bed that wasn't his and gathered his clothes. A boot here, a sock there, his turtleneck all the way over by the small dining table. He picked up a pair of pants and studied them for a moment before pulling them on. As he straightened, Harry noted how the legs puddled around his ankles. He sighed, letting the pants drop back to the floor.

Another pant leg peeked out from under the bed and Harry bent to grab it. The door to the bathroom slid open.

"Going so soon?" Tom Paris asked, a smirk on his face as he dried his hands with a towel. He was still naked from the waist up, although he'd donned a pair of sweats. They were on the loose side and hung low across his hips.

Harry jumped up, pants in hand and a nervous smile on his face. He'd only managed to get on his turtleneck, boxers, and one sock so far. "Uh, I guess. Or… Did you want to get some dinner or something?"

Tom laughed and threw the towel over his shoulder. It landed neatly on the bathroom sink. "I think we used up most of the dinner hour, Har. We'd be lucky to get leftover leola surprise at this point. But I've got some rations. I can make you something if you're hungry."

Harry tried to quickly slide his pants on while standing, and nearly fell over when his left foot got caught at the hem. "That's OK," he said to Tom once he was sure he'd stay upright. "You don't have to go to any trouble. I'll head back to my quarters. I didn't finish my salad from lunch."

"Leftover salad?" Tom said, eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling. "That's the saddest food I've ever heard. Sit down. It's just a few rations."

Two plates of pasta bolognese soon appeared, along with a bottle of Chianti. "This is really good," Harry said. "Compliments to the chef."

Tom grinned as he sipped his wine. "You sound surprised. I'm a man of many talents, Mr. Kim." He reached over with a still-bare foot and poked Harry high on his right thigh.

Harry shifted in his seat and studied his pasta.

"Uh, Harry?"

He jerked his head up and gave Tom a stiff smile. "Yeah?"

"Not to make this more awkward than it already is, but… was that your first time?"

Harry flushed crimson and looked back at his half-empty plate. He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. Libby and I were practically living together before _Voyager_."

Tom chuckled. "I meant with a man."

"Oh." Harry's shoulders dropped and he looked up. "Not exactly. But it's not my… usual thing. God. Was it that obvious?"

"Not during." Tom smiled at him. "You're a man of some considerable talents yourself. But you're acting pretty weird, and I… I just want to make sure you didn't feel pressured into something you didn't want to do."

"No!" Harry said, dropping his fork onto the floor. Tom leaned over and handed it back to him. "No," he repeated, more quietly. "You didn't pressure me. I was a more than willing participant."

"OK. Good."

They ate the rest of the meal in silence, not a sound in the dimly lit quarters other than the clink of a fork against a plate. Harry's leg bounced. "So," he said once he swallowed his last bite of pasta and scraped his fork for any final traces of sauce. "Does this mean we're… I mean, it doesn't have to. Unless you want it to. We could talk about it. But I'm not sure—"

"At ease, Ensign." Tom chuckled again, before standing and taking both plates over to the replicator. "It's fine. It was just two friends, having some fun. This doesn't have to be a big deal. Don't worry so much."

"Right," Harry said, smiling and nodding as he wiped his face with his napkin. He stood as well. "Two friends, having fun. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Me, too."

Harry shuffled from foot to foot. "Anyway, it's kind of late. I should—"

"Absolutely," Tom said. "See you on the bridge."

"See you on the bridge."


	2. Persistence of Vision

"You don't have to leave, you know."

Harry glanced over his shoulder before bending to retrieve his dark grey regulation briefs from the floor. "Thanks, but I should go home and get some sleep. I want to get a workout in before my shift tomorrow. I've been slacking."

"I don't know," Tom said, still sprawled across the bed and making no effort to cover himself. "Everything looks pretty tight from where I'm sitting." His right hand reached over and pinched Harry's still-naked ass.

Harry jumped up with a yelp. Tom laughed.

"So I guess no hoverball tomorrow?" Harry asked, as he pulled on an off-duty black button down.

"Why not?"

"Don't you have a date with Megan Delaney? That's what Jenny told me."

Tom rolled over onto his stomach and reached towards the floor, grabbing his t-shirt. He sat up and started to pull it on. "Right," he said, his voice muffled. "I forgot. It's not a big deal." His head popped out the top of the shirt. "Just messing around on the holodeck. You want to come with?"

Harry's eyebrows shot towards the ceiling. "Come with you? On your date with Megan?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "I just told you: it's not a big deal. It's not even really a date. And haven't you had a thing for Megan for months? Or is it Jenny? I can never remember."

"What does it matter?" Harry said as he started to root under Tom's bed for his shoes. "It's obvious Megan has a thing for _you_ , whether you think it's a date or not. Jenny says she never stops talking about you."

"You sound like we're in high school." Tom flopped onto his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms. "Come. I really don't think Megan will mind. In fact, I hear she's got an adventurous side. She might like it — if it was the three of us."

Harry mouth fell open as he emerged from under the bed. "Do you mean…? Megan wouldn't… Both of us? At the same time?"

Tom laughed. "It was a joke, Harry!" He waggled his eyebrows before rolling onto his back. "Although I would definitely be up for it."

"You're up for anything," Harry grumbled, throwing himself onto Tom's couch on the far side of the room. He pulled on his socks and shoes before eyeing Tom's naked lower half. "You're already up again right now. What is wrong with you? Don't you ever get enough?"

"Maybe I just need a distraction." He rolled onto his side and pulled his own briefs off the floor. Harry watched as he slid them on. Tom's eyes were unfocused as he finished getting dressed.

"From what?" Harry finally asked, when Tom threw himself backwards onto the bed, still silent.

Tom let out a long sigh. "From what we saw this afternoon on the bridge. Seventy-thousand light years away and I still can't get him out of my head."

"Your father?"

"Yup." Tom sat up suddenly, his brow creased. "I never asked you. Was it hard? Seeing Libby like that?"

Harry looked down and shrugged. "I guess. But… I've made my peace with it. With Libby and the end of our relationship. At this point, I just hope she's moved on. Found someone to make her happy."

Tom watched him for a moment before looking down and crossing his arms across his chest. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? Just to sleep? I don't… I mean, you don't have to be alone right now, if you don't want to be."

"Nah," Harry said, finally dressed and ready to leave. "I'm good. But thanks. And have fun with Megan tomorrow." He grinned and paused at the open doorway. "Without me. Night, Tom."

"Night, Harry."


	3. Meld

When Tom exited his bathroom, Harry was sitting on the bed, fully dressed.

"Surprised you're still here," Tom said, walking past him towards the replicator without a second glance. "You don't usually hang around afterwards."

"I thought maybe we could talk," Harry said, following close behind. "About what's going on with you."

"Is something going on?" Tom asked, before ordering a double of bourbon from the replicator. He started to bring the glass to his lips when Harry grabbed him by the wrist. "What the fuck, Harry?"

"I thought Chakotay took away your rations," Harry said, not letting go of Tom's arm.

"He did," Tom said, then used his left hand to pry his right free from Harry's grip. "But fortunately I am adept at hacking the replicator system. Problem solved. I don't think the Doc will miss a few rations, do you? Being a hologram and all."

"You're hacking the replicators for synthehol now?"

"I would never do that," Tom said, taking a long slug from his glass before sitting on his couch and putting his bare feet up on the coffee table. "This isn't synthehol. It's the real stuff, just like you get in Kentucky." He took another drink and grimaced. "Well, sort of. It's not a hard trick. I can show you, if you want."

Harry sat on the opposite end of the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. "No, I don't want you to show me! I want you to tell me what the hell is the matter with you! You're gambling, you're late for shifts, mouthing off to Chakotay. And now you're drinking?"

Tom only shrugged. "What's the big deal? We've been out here almost two years, Harry, and Starfleet is still almost seventy-thousand light years away. Regulations? Uniforms? Who the fuck cares anymore?"

"I do," Harry said. "And so does the captain, and Commander Chakotay. We're nothing if we don't hold to Starfleet ideals, Tom. I believe that. I thought you did, too."

His glass drained, Tom returned to the replicator. "I guess you thought wrong."

Harry moved in behind Tom, snatching the newly filled glass from the replicator despite Tom's vocal protest. "No," Harry said. "This doesn't make any sense. You're not making any sense. Something's wrong with you. Maybe… Maybe it's the warp ten experiment. Some lingering imbalance, or—"

"Or maybe I'm just tired, Harry. Tired of pretending to be the good little officer. Tired of living up to this impossible standard you've set for me. We don't all have to be Starfleet's golden boy, you know." He held his hand out. "Now, if you don't mind?"

Harry returned the drink to the replicator. He tapped a command into the console so the glass disappeared in a swirl of lights. "I refuse to believe it's that simple. People don't just change overnight. Something must have happened to make you act this way. Someone said something to you, or did something—"

"God, Harry! Give it a rest!" Tom snapped. "Listen to me. Nobody did anything. This is just who I am. I tried to be someone different, someone better. I really did. But I'm done. I'm not the person you want me to be. Hell, even you know it on some level."

Harry spun around to stare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All our little late night rendezvous," Tom said, advancing on him. "You think I haven't noticed? How you sneak out when I'm asleep or in the bathroom? How you disappear seconds after I get you off? It's one thing to be seen with me in the mess hall, or on the holodeck." Tom stopped close, leaving only centimeters between them, and began to finger the collar of Harry's uniform. "But you don't want anyone to know what else we get up to, do you? You don't want anyone to know what you let me do to you, when no one else is around."

Harry took a step backward. "Because it's private, Tom. It's not anyone's business what we do together."

Tom snorted and turned back to the replicator. "Yeah, you're concerned about my privacy. That must be it."

"Tom, look—"

The second the glass of amber liquid appeared, Tom's hand closed around it. "Do me a favor, will you? Get the hell out of my quarters."

"Please, can we just—"

"I mean it, Harry. Go."

Harry stood in silence, his mouth opening, then closing again. Tom put his back towards him, swirling the liquor in his glass and taking a long swallow. Harry left without another word.


	4. Investigations

Harry typed in the access code Tom had given him months ago and slipped into the darkened quarters. The blue overheads above the bed were dimmed, but it was still possible to see the form sleeping below them. The only sound in the room was that of Tom's slow, deep breaths.

Harry grinned and undressed as quietly as he could, only stopping once he was down to his boxers. He stubbed a toe against the base of a floor lamp and (mostly) stifled a pained yelp, but Tom didn't stir.

There was a muffled groan from the sleeping man once Harry reached the bed and lifted up the covers. He slipped beneath the light blankets and reached an arm around Tom's waist, placing a gentle kiss at the base of his neck. Tom awoke with a jerk and a startled cry. "Wha-?"

"Easy, buddy," Harry said, trying not to laugh. "It's just me."

Tom moved into a sitting position and rubbed his face. His breath was still coming in short pants. "Shit, Harry. Maybe don't sneak into the bed of a guy who barely escaped from the Kazon two days ago, huh?"

Harry's face flushed. He sat up and reached towards Tom, then returned his hand to his lap. "God, I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking about that. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," Tom said, and he rose from the bed. He, too, was wearing boxers, paired with a blue t-shirt that looked a size too big. "Just a little jumpy. Don't worry about it."

"Has the Doc cleared you for duty yet?"

"Yeah," Tom called through the open door of the bathroom. The sound of running water accented his next words. "I'm back at the conn first thing tomorrow morning."

Tom returned to the sleeping area and sat heavily on the end of the bed, a glass of water in his hand. Harry slid down the mattress to sit behind him and began to rub his shoulders. "I really am sorry I startled you," he said, before returning his mouth to the base of Tom's neck. "Let me make it up to you. Help you relax."

Tom stood with a lurch, and Harry fell forward, only just catching himself with his hands. "Harry… I don't think we should do this."

"Sorry," Harry said with a sigh, rising from the bed. "I get it. You've been through a lot this week, you've got your first shift in the morning. Tonight's not a good night. Maybe tomorrow—"

"No," Tom said as he touched Harry's upper arm. "I don't just mean tonight. I mean, I think we should stop hooking up like this."

Harry frowned, his brows drawing together. "What? Why?"

Tom sighed. He pulled a bathrobe off his armchair and threaded his arms into the sleeves. "Our friendship means a lot to me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"But sex…" Tom took a breath while he tied the robe's belt around his waist. "It complicates things. Even between good friends, even with no strings attached. And… and I'm worried I'm holding you back."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You think that's why Janeway hasn't promoted me? Because we're having sex?"

Tom made a face. "Yeah, Harry, that's exactly what I mean. You'd probably be a lieutenant commander by now if we weren't fucking." His expression softened. "No, obviously I don't mean professionally. I mean... you should be with someone that can commit to you. That can give you the relationship you deserve instead of some pale substitute."

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded. "It's not like I haven't dated since we've been… whatever we are. I've been seeing other people."

"Not lately," Tom said as he gathered Harry's discarded clothes from around the small space. "Jenny said you turned her down for the holodeck last week. And what about Ballard? You guys used to spend all kinds of time together."

"Lyndsay and I are just friends," Harry said, "and I turned down Jenny because I thought my best friend had had some kind of mental breakdown and had made the worst decision of his life. I'm a big boy, you know. I can decide… " He watched as Tom dumped his clothes on the bed and began to meticulously fold each item. "Hang on. Is this about what you said?"

"You're going to have to be a little more specific."

Harry snatched his uniform jacket from Tom's hands and threw it onto the bed. "When you were pretending to be Tom Paris: Malcontent Extraordinaire. When you basically said you thought I was ashamed of our relationship. Of the sex part. Was that real?"

"No," Tom said, picking up the uniform jacket again. "Of course not. I was just trying to push you away. I didn't like having to lie to you. It was easier if I pissed you off instead." He handed the pile of the clothes to Harry and sat down heavily on the mattress. "It's not about that. I know you're not ashamed of me. It's just private, like you said." He gave Harry a small smile. "But you're a good person, Harry, and you deserve to be with someone who's—"

"Don't even finish that," Harry said, closing the distance between them. "You snuck around for weeks, isolating yourself from your friends, risking your reputation and your life — all to help _Voyager_. You can't tell me that you still believe you're just some worthless loser. Not after everything you did."

Tom let out a small snort. "Maybe not. Maybe some days I almost believe the ridiculously elevated view you have of me. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm pretty fucked up, Har." He gestured at himself with a broad sweep of his hands. "You don't want all this. If we keep… doing what we've been doing, I'm just going to screw up. I'm going to hurt you, and I don't want that. I need to take a step back, Harry. For you. But for me, too."

Harry let out a long, deep breath. "You sound pretty sure about all this."

"I am."

"Then I guess I have to respect your wishes."

Tom grinned. "That would be nice, yeah."

Harry put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. "Well, shit. Once more? For old times' sake?"

Tom grin's faded into something sadder. "I think a clean break is best. Besides, I've got an early shift. I can't be late the first day back to being the 'New, Improved Tom Paris.'" The corner of his mouth twitched. "Now put some clothes on, will ya? Before I change my mind."

Harry dressed, but not very quickly, and he stole a few pointed looks at Tom while he did it. By the time he was finished, Tom was already back in bed, his eyes half-closed. "I guess I'll get going," Harry said, "and let you get some sleep. Can we at least still get lunch tomorrow?"

Tom's eyes opened wider. "Of course, Harry. I'm still your friend. That's just all I can be right now."

"All right, Tom. Goodnight."

"'Night."


	5. Chute I

"Nice planet," Tom said. He and Harry were in an open air market, walking along a broad cobblestone pathway lined by booths decorated with brightly colored awnings and flags. "Minimal pollution, friendly people, good food. I wonder when it's going to drop."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked him.

"The other shoe," Tom said.

Harry smiled at a man offering them samples of a local cheese. "Why do you have to be such a pessimist? Maybe Akritiri is just a nice planet, end of story."

Tom laughed. "I'm sorry, is this your first day in the Delta Quadrant? I'm not a pessimist, I've just been paying attention. Come on. The restaurant Baytart told me about is over here."

It wasn't long before they were seated at an outdoor table overlooking the waterfront, each with a frosted glass of the local ale. "You gentlemen should try the Laktivia Recreational Facility," their server told them. "It's only a five minute walk from here."

"Thanks," Harry said to her. "We passed it on the way here. We'll definitely check it out after lunch."

Once they'd placed their orders and the server headed back towards the kitchen, Harry leaned back in his chair. "Baytart gave you good advice. This place is gorgeous. One could almost say… romantic."

Tom rolled his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

"Oh, nothing," Harry said, grinning. "I was just talking to Jenny Delaney. She said Megan was coming down here for dinner tomorrow. Coincidentally, I saw you are also scheduled to come back around dinner time tomorrow. Plotting out your strategy?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Megan and I are not dating!" Tom shook his head, then a wicked grin appeared on his face. "She told me she's holding out for that three way with us."

Harry's face reddened but he smiled into his beer. "Shut up, Paris."

"What about you?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "What about me?"

"Anyone you'd like to bring back here? For a little wining and dining?" When Harry shook his head no, Tom cocked his head to the side. "Come on, Harry. You can tell me. There's got to be _someone_. You've _always_ got someone." He looked down and started to fiddle with his fork. "You and Torres spend a lot of time together, for example."

Harry snorted then coughed when beer nearly came out of his nose. "Me. With B'Elanna? Are you nuts?"

"No, I'm not nuts," Tom said, looking at him. "She's smart, she's funny, she's gorgeous. And you two are always blathering on about science stuff together. Seems like it could be a good match."

Harry shook his head. "B'Elanna's great. She's one of my closest friends, and I care a lot about her." He took a sip from his glass. "But I also find her terrifying at least fifty-percent of the time. Hell, you'd be better with B'Elanna than I would." Harry laughed. "God, could you imagine? You two would kill each other within a week."

Tom gave a small, odd laugh and his eyes shifted around. "Oh, look. Here comes the food."

They ate in near silence for a while, Tom's dish consisting of a fillet of a red-fleshed fish, Harry's a generously sized sandwich of ground meat and cheese. After swallowing a particularly large mouthful, Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed it carefully back in his lap.

"So you and Megan really aren't a thing?"

"No, Harry."

Harry inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow breath. "OK, good. Because I've been doing some thinking. And there's something I want to talk to you about."

Tom frowned and looked at his friend's bouncing leg and fidgety hands. "You OK?"

Harry bit his lower lip briefly before nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine. But the thing is… you're right. There is someone."

"I knew it!" Tom said, leaning back into his chair. "Is it Megan? Is that why you're so fixated on whether we're dating or not? Because, Harry, I swear, I'll take a step back. I'm really not—"

"It's not, Megan, Tom!" Harry blurted out. Tom's eyebrows shot skyward and Harry flushed pink. "It's not Megan. It's… Well, I've been thinking about... you. About us. I know what you said before but—"

Harry's next words were lost in an ear shattering blast and a cloud of heavy grey smoke soon filled the Akritirian market.


	6. Chute II

"One slice of cherry pie for me," Tom said, carrying two dishes back from the replicator. "And one fudge ripple pudding for the bloated-looking guy in the corner."

Harry groaned from where he slouched against the back of Tom's couch. "How are you upright? I feel like I ate an entire cow. "

Tom sat down, placing the pudding in front of his friend before taking a large bite of pie. "You can't give up now!" A fine spray of crumbs issued from his mouth. "Not before dessert! It's been days since we've eaten! I can't even remember the last decent food I ate. Doc's nutritional supplements do _not_ count."

Harry poked dubiously at the pudding. "Nope. Can't do it. You can have it, if you want."

Tom shook his head. "Nah, I'll just put it in stasis for you." The bulk of his pie now gone, he scraped his fork against his plate, chasing the last few crumbs and streaks of juice. His leg bounced. "You don't feel it, do you?

"What?"

"The adrenaline," Tom wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "The rush — from cheating death."

Harry frowned and shook his head.

"It's like…" Tom paused to chew his lower lip. "I feel more alive, after something like this." He stood and gathered the dirty dishes strewn across the coffee table. "Nearly falling to my death, or pulling _Voyager_ up at the last second before we crash, or dodging phasers in a firefight. I can see clearer, I hear better. Everything just _feels_ more, you know?"

Harry let out a weary sigh. "No, I don't know. And the only thing that's clearer to me is your taste in careers and holodeck programs. You must have driven your mother nuts as a kid. Mine got worried if I rode my bike after sundown."

"Mine had pretty much written me off as a lost cause after my fourth concussion," Tom said. "Cliff diving in Maui when I was twelve. My dad had to jump in after me and pull me out." He deposited his load into the replicator and it disappeared in a swirl of light. "It's funny — what happened on Akritiri, it's gotten me thinking. About my family, what my childhood was like."

"Uh-oh."

Tom laughed and shook his head. "No, I don't mean the bad stuff. I mean earlier, when I was little. When my sisters and I would mess around, or my mom would let me play hooky and take me to a show or the holozoo, or even the first time my dad took me up in a shuttle and let me take the controls. I have a lot of good memories from back then, and maybe…" Tom laughed again and shook his head. "You know what? Never mind."

Harry leaned forward, his face still and his voice quiet. "Tell me."

Tom returned to his spot on the couch and looked at his clasped hands. "Maybe you're right. All the times you told me that I should look forward, I'm not the same person from Caldik Prime, or Auckland. Maybe it's time to start making a real life for myself." He gave Harry a smile before turning his gaze to something distant. "I thought I gave that all up — the idea of love, a relationship, having a family of my own. But… maybe it doesn't have to be like that."

Harry said nothing in reply, but only picked up his unused spoon, twisting it in his hands.

"Harry?" Tom said finally. "Is something wrong?"

"Just tired," Harry replied after a moment, giving Tom a small smile.

Tom made a face. "How is that possible? We've basically been sleeping in Sickbay for almost two days straight."

Harry stiffened and ran his hands through his hair. "Maybe not all of us slept that well,"

Tom's expression fell. "Shit, Harry. I'm sorry. It was pretty bad for you in there, wasn't it?"

Harry stared back at him. "It wasn't for you?"

Tom shrugged. "I wasn't lucid for half of it. Don't get me wrong — there were plenty of moments when I was terrified. But… I knew I didn't deserve to be there. That even if we didn't get out, even if I died in that filthy pit — none of it was really my fault. It makes a difference, believe me."

"Maybe you didn't deserve to be there, but…" Harry fell silent.

"Hey." Tom grabbed his shoulder. "You can't blame yourself for what happened in the prison. The clamp—"

"The clamp only revealed what was already there!" Harry snapped, turning his face away. "It's not like it made me a different person! I didn't see you nearly kill anyone over a piece of pipe and some wiring. You didn't fall apart at the first sign of trouble. But _I_ did. I—"

"Had to take care of your injured friend," Tom said. "Had to figure out how to make a deal with a psychopath. Didn't have anyone to turn to for help. You're being way too hard on yourself, Harry. This was a real shit heap of a situation. Seeing that side of yourself for the first time, I can understand why that would freak a guy out. But you have to realize — we _all_ have those darker impulses. Janeway, Chakotay, Tuvok, B'Elanna. We'd _all_ be capable of some pretty despicable acts, if we were pushed hard enough. Some of us understand that far better than we'd like to." Tom stopped for a minute, blowing out a long, noisy breath. "Having those impulses doesn't make you a bad person. Giving into them does. And you didn't, Harry. Not when it counted."

Harry nodded but wouldn't meet Tom's eyes. "I might," he finally said with a shaky breath. "I might need a reminder of that sometimes. Just for a little while."

"Of course, buddy," Tom said, squeezing the other man's shoulder again. "Anything you need. But there is one thing I need to ask you first."

"What?"

"Are you really not going to eat that pudding?"

Harry let out a bark of a laugh as he fell back against the couch. "I can't believe you. How can you still be hungry?" At Tom's sheepish shrug, Harry waved his hand at the table. "Knock yourself out."

Tom reached for the cut glass dish. He made a small groan of pleasure at the first bite. "I have to admit, I was pretty skeptical. Fudge ripple ice cream, sure. Maybe even fudge ripple cake. But who's ever heard of fudge ripple pudding? This, though," he said, taking in another mouthful. "Is really good."

They were quiet after that, Tom focused on the pudding and Harry's eyes distant and hazy as he stared at the far wall. The only sound was that of Tom's spoon clinking against the glass of the bowl as he ate.

"Ok," Tom said, the last of the pudding having gone the way of the pie and the steak and two glasses of wine. "I think I've finally hit capacity. Although maybe if we had a bit of… Fish!" he blurted out. "That was the last decent thing I got to eat! At that restaurant in the marketplace. Which I guess is now permanently closed. Too bad. That was a good meal." He rose to recycle the empty bowl. "Hey! You were going to tell me something, weren't you? At the restaurant? I don't remember the details, but I feel like it was important." Tom looked over at Harry and closed his mouth.

His friend was asleep — head tilted back against the couch, mouth slightly open, and his breathing slow and deep. Tom smiled and crossed over to his sleeping area, where he pulled a folded blue blanket off the foot of his bed. He gave the blanket a gentle shake and laid it over his sleeping friend, before kneeling on the floor and prying off each of his boots in turn. Harry didn't so much as twitch.

"Computer," Tom whispered. "Dim lights to ten-percent." He stood there, watching Harry for a moment before moving away. He'd only taken a step when he stopped and turned back to his friend; bending over, he placed a soft, quick kiss on Harry's temple. "Sleep well, buddy," he said. "You deserve it."


	7. Drive

Harry fidgeted outside the blast doors of Shuttlebay One, waiting for the computer to tell them the bay was secure and it was safe to go inside to check on his friends. They'd had to tractor the _Flyer_ back onto _Voyager_ — even the shuttle's thrusters had been damaged in the blast — which wasn't a speedy process.

"Take it easy, Ensign," Chakotay said, a small smile on his face. "I'm sure they would have said something if either of them were seriously injured."

"Right," Harry said, nodding. He still bolted into the shuttlebay the moment he was able to open the doors. He heard them before he saw them. Tom's light tenor was too low for him to make out the words, but whatever it was he said, it made B'Elanna giggle.

B'Elanna was giggling.

Harry started to cross over to the hatch side of the _Flyer,_ but Tom and B'Elanna emerged before he got there. Both upright, both a little singed, but clearly intact. And both with broad grins across their faces.

"Harry! Chakotay!" Tom called, his arm tight around B'Elanna's waist. "Congratulate us!"

"On what?" Harry said, scanning them both for injuries. "You didn't even finish the race."

"On our marriage, Starfleet," B'Elanna said.

Chakotay recovered first. "On your what?"

"Marriage!" Tom confirmed, he looked down at B'Elanna and gave her a tender smile. "We took the _tIhogh 'Ip_."

Harry frowned. "Did you two run low on oxygen? What the hell are you talking about? Tah hawk what?"

B'Elanna rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. " _tlhogh 'Ip_ ," she repeated, enunciating each syllable. "The oath of marriage."

"When?" Harry demanded. "How? Don't you need a priest or something? And pain sticks and _bat'leths_ and blood wine?"

"Not necessarily," B'Elanna said, her brown eyes now locked with Tom's blue ones. "That's one option, but there's also a less formal way. One that many warriors instituted the night before, or after, a battle. One that's a bit more private."

Tom grinned back at her. "Marriage by mutual consent. No fuss, no muss. No more muss than you want, anyway." He reached out and tucked a lock of B'Elanna's hair behind her ear with one hand, while the other slipped lower on her waist.

Chakotay cleared his throat. Loudly.

Tom jerked his head up to look at the other two men. "Right. Anyway, we're as married as we need to be, but we thought we'd ask the captain to make it Federation official."

Chakotay smiled, the dimples appearing. "I'm sure she'd be happy to. When would you—"

"Now," B'Elanna said.

"Now?" Chakotay and Harry said in unison.

"No time like the present!" Tom said, and he gave B'Elanna's hand a squeeze.

Not fifteen minutes later, the four of them were gathered in the captain's ready room: Tom and B'Elanna still in their flight suits, Chakotay and Janeway exchanging bemused but happy glances, and Harry, standing just apart from the rest.

"Did you get the rings?" Tom said to him, breaking free from B'Elanna.

"Right here," Harry said with a tight smile, dropping the two circles of gold into Tom's open palm. "Made to your specifications."

"Thanks, Har. You're the best," Tom said with a grin and quick squeeze of Harry's shoulder. He moved back to B'Elanna, handing her the larger of the two rings.

It was a short ceremony, Federation standard, and almost entirely read off a PADD. "I might have prepared something a bit more personal," Janeway said with a mock glare, "if I'd been given more than five minutes' notice."

Chakotay shared a favorite love poem of his by e.e. cummings and the captain looked to Harry. "What about you, Ensign Kim? Anything to say in support of this union?"

Harry looked at B'Elanna and Tom as they watched him, expectantly. He blinked a few times, but didn't speak.

"What's the matter, Har?" Tom said, smiling. "Not planning on objecting, are you? Going to declare your long-standing secret crush on the bride?"

"No," Harry said, with a small laugh. "Nothing like that. I… I'm very… uh… " He shifted his feet from side to side. "Inarticulate at the moment. So I'll just say," Harry moved to stand in between and just behind his two friends, clasping his hands on both their shoulders, "I couldn't be happier for the two of you."

"Well, then, Lieutenant Paris," the captain said, "I think it's time you kissed the bride."

Several seconds later, as Harry chewed on his lower lip and Chakotay stared at his shoes, quietly laughing, Janeway cleared her throat. "Just kissing, you two. This _is_ my office, you know."

"Sorry, Captain," Tom and B'Elanna both murmured as they broke apart with matching intimate smiles.

"I think this calls for a celebration," Janeway declared. "I'll let Neelix know he should start replicating the champagne."

Before she could hit her comm badge, Tom put a hand on her forearm. "Actually, Captain. B'Elanna and I were wondering if we could have a few days to ourselves."

She smiled at them. "Of course. Let me look at the holodeck schedule, and I can—"

"Captain?" Harry interjected. "I have another idea. Do you mind?"

Janeway waved an arm at him. "Not at all, Harry. But keep in mind," she said, turning her attention back to Tom and B'Elanna. "I won't be able to put Neelix off forever. This party is happening eventually."

The newlyweds nodded and smiled at the captain. Tom turned to Harry, a puzzled grin on his face. "We _are_ going to like this, right?"

"Absolutely," Harry said. "Just give me an hour."

B'Elanna licked her lips and looked up at her husband. "Now how will we possibly keep ourselves occupied for an hour?"

"I'm serious," Janeway said, pointing a scolding finger at them. "Go to your quarters. Anyone's quarters."

One hour and twenty minutes later, Harry met Tom and B'Elanna, freshly showered and their faces flushed, back at Shuttlebay One. "Great idea, Harry," Tom said, clapping him firmly on the back. "We can't thank you enough."

Harry stepped back behind the console that controlled the bay doors. He focused on the touchpad at his fingers, not looking up as the shuttle he'd painstakingly repaired by himself lifted off the decking and performed a neat about-face. Not until the readouts showed they'd cleared _Voyager_ 's hull did he raise his eyes towards the open doors, only a force field separating him from the cold vacuum of space. He stood there a long while, watching the _Flyer_ as it whisked his two best friends away on their journey, not leaving until it was no more than another spot of light in the black.

 **The End**

* * *

 **a/n:** Thanks so much for everyone that read and reviewed! My next series of stories are all P/T, all the time, I swear...


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